The Art of Memory
by Snidgetlass
Summary: Snape grudgingly accepts the task of collecting Professor Granger after summer break, only to find that her memory has been wiped. Something seems off, however, and McGonagall pressures him into helping discover what really happened and why. HGSS
1. Chapter 1

**The Art of Memory  
Snidgetlass**

Hello all. I started writing this story about two years ago before DH came out, but I'm going to do my best to keep it relatively canonical (if that's even possible to do in a HGSS story). The plan is to keep it pretty short - 15 chapters tops, but we'll see how that goes. Please review or I most likely won't have the motivation to continue.

Disclaimer: JKR owns everything.

* * *

Severus Snape cringed as he stared up at the slightly dirty plastic sign with "Granger and Granger Dentistry" printed in bold black letters. A string of lights in the shape of teeth flickered around the window frame, illuminating a floor riddled with toys and small children. He gritted his teeth and pushed the door open. A little bell chimed announcing his entrance. How thoroughly muggle of them.

Ignoring the strange looks he was getting from the children on the floor and a few of their parents, he strode to the desk. He was greeted with an empty chair and mounds of paperwork. He eyed a small bell at the edge of the counter. What was it with muggles and their fascination with bells? He straightened the long, black jacket he had exchanged for his long, black robes and tapped his foot in impatience. Of course she would make him wait.

After a few minutes a thin woman with bushy brown hair appeared from a room in the back. "I'm sorry sir," she said with a smile. "I didn't hear you ring the bell."

"That would be because I didn't ring it," Snape replied bitingly.

The woman continued to smile at him in an infuriating manner. She flipped open a schedule book and looked up at him expectantly. "Name?" she finally asked congenially.

He studied her closely. She was joking. She had to be.

"I haven't an appointment," he began.

"Oh, you need to make an appointment?" she broke in before he could continue. She picked up a pen from her desk and smiled at him again. "What day would be best for you?"

"While I find this little game positively riveting," he said with a sneer, "I believe you know why I'm here. Come along." He motioned for her to follow.

The woman's smile fell slightly. "I'm sorry sir. I believe I missed something."

Snape frowned and leaned across the counter to look into her eyes. A few people in the waiting room sensed tension and began to watch, mostly out of sadistic curiosity. "Miss Granger, we've been looking for you for days. Now, come along. Minerva needs to talk to you."

The woman took a step back. "I'm afraid you must have me confused with someone else," she stated firmly.

"Is your name Hermione Granger?" he growled.

"Well, yes but…"

"Then I do not have you confused with someone else." Snape reached into his pocket for his wand, prepared to take her by force if necessary. Her eyes widened.

"Please, whatever it is you want, I'll give it to you," she said fearfully. "Just don't shoot me. There are children around."

Snape pulled his hand back out of his pocket. She thought he had a revolver? She thought that Severus Snape was carrying around a muggle handgun? Something was going on. He studied her closely - brown eyes filled with contempt, unmanageably wild brown curls, a stack of books at her side - it was most definitely Granger.

"Do you not recognize me?" he asked through a clenched jaw.

"Should I?" she responded in surprise. "What is your name?"

Snape rolled his eyes, increasingly annoyed by Minerva's insistence that he collect the irksome girl.

"Severus Snape," he spat. Her eyes showed no sign of recognition.

"I've never seen you in my life," she insisted. "How do you know who I am?"

Snape ignored her question. "May I speak with your parents?"

"Well, they're busy and I'm not sure if…"

"I said, may I speak with your parents," he snarled. "I won't ask you again, Miss Granger." She swallowed and scurried out of the room. Seconds later, two indignant Dr. Grangers stormed out.

"Who are you and what do you want with my daughter?" her father yelled. Snape smoothed back his black hair.

"I think that this conversation would go more smoothly without the presence of such a large and particularly eager audience," he said coolly.

"I think we're perfectly fine out here," the dentist replied. "Now who are you?"

"My name is Professor Severus Snape."

The two dentists looked at each other in recognition. Snape smirked. So she's told them about me. Mrs. Granger immediately stepped forward and ushered him out of the waiting room. They hurried back to an office area and sat down. The three Grangers stared at Snape expectantly. He stared back.

"I suppose you would like to tell me why your daughter is here instead of at Hogwarts and why she has absolutely no memory of my existence," Snape hissed.

"We thought you would know," Mrs. Granger replied tentatively. A worried look crossed her face. "They told us someone would be coming for her after -" she paused. "Hermione, dear. Will you go attend to the front please. We'll call you when we're done speaking with the professor."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but grimly conceded.

Mrs. Granger lowered her voice. "She showed up at our door a week ago. We woke up to the most wretched knocking and we opened the front door and she was there. We hadn't seen her in months. It was pouring rain and she was soaked to the bone and wearing her costu...erm, robes." Snape pursed his lips and refrained from the remark that was lingering at the tip of his tongue.

"We got her inside and warmed her up and asked her how she had gotten there, but she didn't know. We asked her about her job and her friends and anything else we could think of. She told us she'd never had a job and listed off half a dozen friends she had in primary school."

Snape thought quickly. Had she been hit with a memory charm? A Confundus gone wrong? Had she hit her head? Mrs. Granger clasped her hands together and continued.

"Well that scared us to be sure, so we sent an owl off to the Headmaster at the school." Snape's eyes flickered, but he abstained from wincing. "It turns out that he's not the Headmaster anymore, but the new one wrote back. She said that she'd be sending someone to collect her. I suppose that's you," she said quietly.

Snape did not look fazed; twenty years of traitorous deception had taught him that. He cleared his throat. "How far back is the break in her memory?"

The Grangers looked at him somewhat timidly. "Eleven years," Mr. Granger replied. "She remembers her tenth birthday."

Snape's mood sank even lower. This was going to be quite a bit more difficult that he had expected.

"She does seem to have retained her general memory, however, and developmentally she seems alright, perhaps with a slip here and there," Mrs. Granger broke in quickly. "She appears to be more or less the same Hermione."

Wonderful. "Have you given her an explanation?" he asked emotionlessly.

"A car accident. She doesn't - well, she didn't -" Mrs. Granger stammered. "She didn't receive her Hogwarts letter until the next summer."

Sweet Merlin. She thought she was a muggle.

Snape stood and folded his arms. "How, then, do you propose I persuade her to accompany me to seek help?" The Grangers didn't answer. "I can't bloody well tell her I'm taking her to St. Mungo's to have the medi-witches unobliviate her!"

"We'll talk with her," Mr. Granger sighed. He rose and called Hermione back into the room. She eyed Snape suspiciously.

"Honey," Mrs. Granger began with an arm around her daughter. "This man is going help you get better."

"Is he a doctor?" she asked skeptically.

"Of sorts," Mr. Granger jumped in. "He's going to take you to see a specialist and hopefully repair whatever damage happened during the accident." Hermione stared unabashedly at Snape.

"He doesn't particularly look like a doctor, Mother."

"Don't worry, dear. We know who he is, and we've met the people he's taking you to see. You can trust us. Now go with him. We'll send your things along later."

Snape eyed the girl with disdain. "Come along, Miss Granger. We can't keep everyone waiting any longer." He swept from the room, past the goggling group in the waiting room, and out the door. Hermione hugged her parents quickly and scampered out after him.

"You could at least wait for me," she snapped crossly. He didn't answer. "Who are you, anyway? How do you know who I am? Where are we going?"

"Merlin, girl. Even with head trauma you're a bloody headache," he muttered. He swept down the street, taking no notice that his charge was struggling to keep up.

"So you know me?"

"Unfortunately."

"So we're friends?"

"Hardly."

"How did we meet?"

"Must you insist on speaking, Miss Granger? I've enough of a headache as it is from that horridly muggle establishment."

"Muggle?" she asked in confusion.

Snape stopped, unintentionally allowing her to catch her breath. "Miss Granger, I don't know how I'm going to get this through your sickeningly logical little mind, but you're a witch."

"That's not a very nice thing to say. I've just had an awful accident."

"I'm not even going to bother," he grumbled. His plan had been to walk to the Leaky Cauldron so he would have time to explain everything to her, but he decided that he didn't care all that much. Minerva had decided not to fill him in on the entire situation, so she could fix it. He put his arm around Hermione's waist and disapparated with a pop before she could pull away. They stumbled into the inn and Snape dragged Hermione towards the fireplace.

"Wh-wh-what w-was-"

"It will be explained. Take some of this powder," he shoved her hand into a jar. She grabbed a shaky handful. "Step into the fire and say 'Hogwarts'."

"What?" she screamed incredulously.

"Do it!" he commanded. She tentatively stepped into the flames and squeaked 'Hogwarts' before disappearing. Snape nodded to Tom with a frown and did the same. The Grand Foyer was in an uproar when he arrived.

* * *

"You sent her through the floo...without anyone? That was absolutely irresponsible, Severus. You of all people..."

"This is most certainly not a hospital. Where are all the..."

"...you overgrown bat! Treatin' our Hermione like that. We oughta..."

"You apparated in the middle of London? What if you'd been seen? What if..."

"I want to call my mother! She said he was a..."

"...she doesn't even know the real story? A car accident? Really, Severus. One of the greatest witches of our age and..."

"I can't believe you just sent her through the floo! Harry Potter himself has gotten lost in the floo. She could be in..."

"Silence!" Snape roared. "Yes! I apparated with her in the middle of muggle London! Yes, I sent her through the bloody floo! No, I did not explain to her the whole sodding situation, and yes, your mother lied to you, you ridiculous, ungrateful know-it-all." Everyone fell silent. He stalked towards Minerva, wand extended. "I completed the task you required of me. You have your precious charge. Now leave me be!"

"But Severus, we'll need your..."

He spun and whipped his wand in Flitwick's direction. "You do not and will not need my bloody help ever again," he spat. "I'll be in my rooms. Whoever cares to disturb me can do it knowing full well they are about to die an excruciatingly painful death."

He stalked out of the foyer and slammed the door leading down to the dungeons behind him, leaving four irritated educators and a potions professor sans memory in a dazed state of shock.

"Bit dramatic," said Neville.

"Tell me about it," said Minerva.

"Bloody nutters, that one," said Hagrid.

"I can't believe he sent her through the floo," said Flitwick.

"That man is definitely not a doctor," said Hermione.

At that, they all seemed to remember she was there and rushed to her side.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" Minerva asked.

"I was recently in a car accident, but I'm feeling alright now," Hermione replied. "Apparently I've lost some of my memory." She sat down in a chair near the front doors, eyeing her companions warily. "Where exactly am I?"

Minerva stepped forward and took her hand. "This is all going to be rather hard for you to grasp, I'm afraid. You are currently in the Grand Foyer of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Hermione pulled her hand away, and stuttered, "W-w-witchcraft and wh-waht? I think there must be some mistake. I'm Anglican."

"Please, just let me continue. Ten years ago, you received a letter from this institution. You won't remember because your memory does not currently reach that far back. In the letter, the former headmaster explained that you were a muggleborn witch, that is, that you have magical abilities and you come from a non-magical home. Does that make sense to you? Do you recall any odd things that have happened to you? Strange coincidences or things of that nature?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose it isn't altogether shocking once I think about it. An alarming number of breakable things tend to break when I get angry."

Minerva smiled warily. "You attended school here. You received top marks every year. You became a prefect your fifth year and were nominated to be head girl your last year, although you did not attend school for reasons which shall need to be divulged at a later time."

Hermione swallowed and continued listening intently.

"Following the completion of your final examinations, you took a potions apprenticeship with Professor Snape, that rather, erm, passionate gentleman who brought you here. You received your mastery in potions and you now teach here at Hogwarts."

"I teach potions."

"Correct."

"And I live here."

"One floor below us."

Hermione pressed her index fingers to her temples. "This is rather a lot to take in."

"Of course it is dear. Take your time to process everything."

Hermione took a deep breath and sat in silence for a few moments.

"I don't mean to be rude, but who on earth are all of you?" Her eyes drifted from Minerva's dark robes and pointed hat, to Flitwick's diminutive stature, to Neville's overenthusiastic smile, to Hagrid's - well - to Hagrid.

Neville knelt beside her, grabbing her other hand. "I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom. We went to school together, you and I. We're friends. I'm apprenticing under Professor Sprout in herbology."

"Filius Flitwick. Professor of Charms."

"Rubeus Hagrid." Hagrid stepped forward with tears in his eyes, pulling a rather alarmed Hermione into a hug. "Oh, Hermione. We've been worryin' so much about ya. When I get my hands on whoe'er did this I'm gonna..."

"I think Miss Granger would be most appreciative if you would release her, Rubeus," Minerva said sharply. Hermione's eyes bulged in thanks and Hagrid dropped her to the floor.

"Er, sorry 'bout that."

"S'okay," Hermione managed as she caught her breath.

Minerva stepped forward. "And I am Minerva McGonagall. I'm sorry that we got a bit ahead of ourselves. I am the headmistress at the school and I was your head of house when you were a student."

"Pleasure to meet all of you."

The all smiled at her leerily and she slowly sank back into the chair.

Minerva paced back and forth. "Now we must try to discover how your memory has been so thoroughly wiped. I've not seen a case like this in some time."

Hermione's face fell. "Mum said that many people who receive head injuries from accidents experience some degree of amnesia for a while. Surely this isn't permanent."

"We don't believe a car accident did this to you, Miss Granger. In fact, we have no idea what happened, but if you'd allow us to take you to the hospital wing for an examination..."

"I'll get the memories back, won't I? How can I teach if I've never heard of the subject? What about my friends? Where will I live? Is there anything to be done?"

Minerva smiled vaguely. "Well, let's just go see what Madam Pomfrey has to say."

Hermione's tearing eyes suddenly lit up. "Madam? Does she speak French? I just finished reading the most wonderful book on France and -"

"Apparently some things never change," Neville remarked to Hagrid and Flitwick as Hermione continued to chatter on. Hagrid smiled grimly and sauntered up the stairs after McGonagall.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Art of Memory**  
Snidgetlass

Well apparently you liked chapter 1, or at least were intrigued by it. I only had four reviews, but I had seven story alerts in less than twelve hours which is more than I'm used to for sure. So, here's another chapter.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all.

* * *

Neville walked slowly to the Great Hall and sank down onto one of the Gryffindor benches. He was at a loss for what to do. He was torn between concern for Hermione and infuriation with Snape.

It was normally she who would confront him with his ridiculous, unfeeling behavior. She wasn't afraid of him. In fact, at least from Neville's perspective, following her apprenticeship with Snape they seemed to interact more as friends. Granted, it was friends who were constantly on the brink of hexing each other into the next week, but still...

Neville put his hands over his eyes. What would Hermione do in this situation? He groaned. She would march down, throw open his door, and give him a piece of her mind. But this was Neville. Neville Longbottom. He could never – at least not with Snape.

"Come on, Neville," he berated himself. He looked at the door leading down to the dungeons. It was now or never.

He finally made up his mind. "Here I come, you overgrown bat," he muttered, rising quickly. He pulled out his wand and flew down to the dungeons. He passed Hermione's rooms and descended another set of stairs down to Snape's chambers. The silver snake above the doorway hissed as he approached.

Mustering up all the courage he could, he rapped loudly on the door. "Severus! Open up!"

No answer.

"Severus. I mean it. You need to help her. That memory charm looks like dark magic."

Still no answer.

"Snape! I swear on Merlin's grave that if you don't open this door instantly, I'll..."

"Shut it, Longbottom," Snape snapped. He opened the door. "Are you deaf or did you just forget my warning?"

"I chose, respectfully, to ignore it," Neville seethed.

"That was a poor decision, Longbottom," Snape replied, drawing his wand. Neville's determination faltered slightly, but he stood his ground.

"No," he spat. "A poor decision was walking away from your friend when she needs you."

Severus smirked. "Friend. How very Gryffindor of you." He took a step forward. "You think that just because I reluctantly allowed her to apprentice with me that we're 'friends'? You think that I would willingly associate with that ridiculous, know-it-all chit of a girl?"

"Now, Professor..."

"No, Longbottom. I'm not even remotely finished. I refuse to show that girl anything but contempt, as I have in the past. She is a nuisance. A pain. I can hardly stand the thought of her." He took as step inside the room and whirled around. "And you! To think that you have the gaul to invade my personal chambers and inform me what I ought to do. Have I not taught you better than that?" He lowered his wand to rest at the younger man's chest. Neville's stomach dropped.

Raising himself up as tall as he could, he braced himself for whatever spell might be coming. "I'm not afraid of you, anymore," he stated slowly.

Severus's eyebrows raised slightly in amusement. "Oh really. I'm afraid that's about to be corrected."

Neville thought quickly, well, as quickly as he could. "You're rather defensive when it comes to her, Severus," he said slyly.

"What on earth are you insinuating, Longbottom?" Severus slammed Neville backwards into the doorframe by the neck.

"Just that your adamance seems to indicate you may be overcompensating for something. Perhaps you don't dislike her quite so much as you say."

"That's absurd, you imbecile. I lived the last twenty years of my life as a spy."

"But still..." Neville did his best to smirk his Snapiest smirk. "I think you really are friends with her. Good friends."

"Out!" Severus roared. With a flick of his wand, Neville was transported into the corridor, slammed into the wall, and thrown to the floor. The door slammed shut with a shudder and Neville rolled over onto his back to recover.

"Be glad he didn't hex you, Mr. Longbottom," a voice said from behind him. Neville groaned and tipped his head back to see Professor McGonagall's figure with her wand drawn. She helped him awkwardly to his feet and smiled slightly. "You certainly were sorted correctly. I assume he said no."

"I believe that would be an understatement, Professor," Neville grunted.

"Yes, well, perhaps we shall try again. I spoke with Madame Pomfrey. She agreed with me that no simple obliviate could have these damaging results. We need someone with more expertise in the area. He's going to have to help whether he likes it or not."

"Something tells me it will be the latter," Neville mused as Minerva raised her hand to knock. He massaged his head distractedly, hoping Hermione was alright. What would they do without a potions professor? Slughorn was long retired, Damocles Belby had taken a post at Durmstrang, and Snape was teaching the long-coveted Defense post. Wait.

"Professor wait," he whispered before she could knock. He cast a quick muffliato and turned away from the door. "Perhaps if he had some sort of incentive."

"Such as?"

"Keeping his current position rather than being forced to accept his previous one."

Minerva studied him for a moment. "Perhaps Slytherin would have been just as well for you, Mr. Longbottom." Neville's eyes widened slightly, but he smirked at her.

"We Gryffindors just have to learn to beat him at his own game, Professor."

Minerva tapped on the door.

"Longbottom, I swear if you knock one more time, I'm going to..."

"Severus!" Minerva bristled.

The door opened immediately. Severus scowled at both of them and folded his arms across his chest. Neville choked back the smile that was threatening to come out and kept a safe distance behind Minerva.

"I'm not helping, Minerva. I have too much to do."

"Yes, drinking firewhiskey all day and wallowing in self-pity are rather time consuming activities," she retorted. "Especially when your best friend is in the hospital wing with no recollection of you or desire to distract you from these two occupations."

"There's that word again."

"Face it, Severus," Minerva began. "She is your coworker and she is your friend. And, if you think really hard, I think you'll remember that she is also your replacement. You've said yourself that Defense teachers are easy to come by. Potions masters, I will remind you, are not so numerous."

Severus stared at her, a snarl forming at his lips. "So I'm to be blackmailed."

"On the contrary. I'm just informing you of the natural repercussions of your actions should you allow the girl to remain without her memory."

"And if I should help her and fail?"

"I believe I'd still be more inclined to search for a new Potion's Master rather than a Defense instructor."

Neville bit his lip. He could tell Severus was about to cave.

"Then you leave me no choice. Take me to the loathsome girl."

* * *

Hermione sat at the window in the hospital wing, staring out at the grounds. This really was a beautiful place, wherever she was. She was less scared now, although she felt very ill-at-ease in a new environment, that was apparently not new at all. Madame Pomfrey handed her a glass of water, which she accepted gladly.

"Thank you," she said blankly.

"You're welcome, dear. How are you feeling now?"

"Disoriented, but I suppose that's to be expected. This may be an odd question, but do you know me very well?"

The medi-witch took a seat next to Hermione and patted her hand. "I know you fairly well. I certainly know your friends Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley better, but I had you in here yourself a number of times when you were a student. And a few times since you've been teaching as well. There was one incident in particular a few months ago that kept you in bed for a week."

Hermione hugged her knees to her chest. "What happened?"

"Potions explosion. Severus flooed both of you up here in a panic. Kept muttering about how you had added the dungroot too soon, but as soon as you regained consciousness, you were blaming the incident on him. If you hadn't been so badly injured, it would have been quite amusing."

"But I recovered fully."

"Yes you did. There's a good chance you still have a scar across your stomach from when the cauldron landed on top of you, though."

Hermione lifted the edge of her shirt to find a jagged scar running from her belly button to her hip bone. "Wow. And you fixed that in a week's time?"

"Oh no, that was healed in minutes. It took you a week to recover from the hiccuping solution that you were doused in. Poor thing. You had the after-effects for weeks."

Hermione giggled slightly. "I can only imagine."

She stared out the window again. "What are they like? My friends, I mean."

Madame Pomfrey smiled. "Unruly, mischievous, intelligent, brave. They care about you very much. Your friend Harry is one of the most famous wizards of all time."

"Really."

"Yes. In fact, you're very famous yourself."

"For what exactly?"

"Well, that is a very long story which would be better told by Minerva or Severus."

"Could you just summarize for clarity's sake?" Hermione asked.

Madame Pomfrey eyed her warily. "Well, up until a few years ago, you were working to defeat a terrible, dark wizard that was attempting to take over our world. You and your friends, along with dozens of others, of course, were successful."

"I defeated a dark wizard," Hermione repeated incredulously. "How? And when, for that matter?"

"You took a year off to hunt for horcruxes, erm, pieces of the Dark Lord's soul." Madame Pomfrey shifted uncomfortably and took the empty water glass from Hermione's hands.

"And Severus, he helped as well?"

"He did his part."

"This is a lot to take in." Hermione put her hands on her knees and breathed deeply.

"The rest will have to wait. I wasn't involved enough to be able to explain everything to you. Perhaps when Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley arrive."

"They're coming here?" Hermione asked.

"We owled them about an hour ago. They should arrive at any time."

Hermione swallowed nervously. This was a lot to take in. A potions explosion? Famous friends? Defeating a Dark Lord? All before she turned twenty-two.

The doors to the Hospital Wing flew open and three people stormed in. Well, one stormed, the other two walked quickly. Severus billowed to Hermione's side and drew out his wand. Her eyes widened and she cringed, waiting for him to spell her or kill her or do whatever wizards do to one another.

"Severus, really!" Madame Pomfrey tutted.

Severus ignored her and attempted to catch Hermione's eye

"For Merlin's sake girl, you have to look at me for it to work." He grabbed her chin and jerked her head towards him. "Legilimens." The moment their eyes met, Hermione felt the odd sensation of someone looking through her memories. Snape stared deeply into her eyes, muttering as he flipped through her mind for something useful.

"Birthday parties, dentist appointments, summer library programs," he sneered. "Is that really all you have in there?" He pulled out of her mind and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I lost my memory, you git," Hermione snapped back. "Ergo, the memories are gone."

Severus shot her a caustic look and turned back to Minerva. "I found no barrier, no block on any memories. They seem to be completely gone."

"Perhaps she uses a pensieve," Neville offered.

"But to unload that many memories at once?" Minerva queried. "That would be some feat. Not to mention dangerous. What if you were to forget what you were doing while in the process?"

"Besides, she showed up in London, you dunderhead. I somehow doubt she has a portable pensieve to travel with on the off-chance she should need to dump eleven years worth of memories in one go."

Neville took a step forward. "I'm trying to be helpful, Snape. We need to explore every possibility."

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but Minerva stepped in. "He's right, Severus. We need to think through everything. Unfortunately, Miss Granger will be able to help very little with research."

Hermione frowned. "I can read a book just as well as anyone else here. I just may have a harder time understanding exactly what its saying. What else am I going to do with myself?"

Severus studied her for a few moments. "I believe Miss Granger could probably handle some of the more elementary texts. Perhaps she would be able to view the problem from a...different perspective."

"Muggle perspective, you mean," Neville mumbled.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom. From a muggle perspective, seeing as she thinks she's a muggle."

"Well I certainly don't now," Hermione murmured under her breath.

"Silence." Severus whipped his wand in her direction. "You will do exactly as I say, sans commentary, and you," he turned in Neville's direction, "will refrain from making this more difficult than it already is. Now, here is what is going to happen. Minerva, I want you to go through all your ministry and St. Mungo's contacts and find out if there have been any other cases of this nature. I would recommend avoiding the topic of our issue." The headmistress looked slightly irritated at being bossed around by her employee, but nodded curtly.

"Longbottom, you and Sprout should research memory potions and plants. This may be able to be remedied naturally. Flitwick will assist with Charms research."

Severus turned and advanced on Hermione. She recoiled slightly, but held eye contact with him. "Granger. You will follow me."

He swept from the room and Hermione hurried after him with a worried glance in Minerva's direction. The headmistress smiled slightly. "You'll be fine, Miss Granger," she said.

Hermione didn't think she sounded particularly convincing, but she followed anyway. He was well ahead of her.

"Severus."

"I had not realized we were on a first name basis, Granger."

"Madame Pomfrey intimated that we were."

"Well, we're not."

"Fine," Hermione huffed. "Will you please slow down, Severus?"

"No," he snapped. "And don't call me by that name."

"I suppose you would prefer Sev. I would if I were you. Severus sounds so...severe."

"I remind you that I am an experienced duelist with a wand."

"And you would cast a spell on an unarmed amnesiac?"

"Without hesitation."

"Fine. Can you please slow down, Mr. Snape?"

"It's Professor. Or Master."

"I refuse to call you either of those. I do not recall you being my professor, and you definitely are not my master."

"It's a title."

"It's far too formal for friends."

"We are not friends, Miss Granger."

"Colleagues, whatever. It's far too formal for colleagues."

"Then pray abstain from speaking."

"Fine."

She continued to run to keep up with him. He took her down flight after flight of stairs, and Hermione began to wonder if he was purposely taking the longest route so she would be out of breath by the end of it. She hadn't really looked around when they first went up to the Hospital Wing, but she was astonished to see that the paintings were moving, along with the staircases.

"How do they do that?" she questioned.

"I thought we were agreed that you'd keep your mouth shut."

"I'm just curious," she snapped. "Never mind. I'll ask Neville. He seems like a nice chap."

Severus snorted. "Marvelous. Although I suppose it is natural that when you lose your mind you develop a crush on Longbottom."

"I hardly said I had a crush. I said I thought he seemed nice. Or at least nicer than you."

"I am humbled by his reputation," Severus spat sarcastically.

"Jealous, are you?"

Severus stopped and pointed his wand at her neck. "No more, Granger. No more discussion. No more questions. You will do what I say, when I say to do it, or you can forget about getting your memory back. I'll dump you back in London and you can rot along with all those muggle teeth for the rest of your miserable existence."

Hermione bit her lip and glared at him. He threw open the door leading down to the dungeons and led her to a portrait on the first sub-level. The portrait was of a beautiful-looking witch half transformed into a fox. The painting smiled as the two of them approached.

"Hermione. It's so good to see you back," she greeted melodically. "And Severus. Nice to see you as well." Hermione raised one eyebrow and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His expression remained impassive.

"Hollyhock," he said firmly.

"You never were much for conversation, Severus," the painting responded tartly. The portrait swung open and Severus stalked in.

"These are your chambers, Miss Granger. Your things have been brought in. I will be here to collect you in an hour to escort you to dinner." He waited for no reply, but quickly exited the chambers leaving Hermione alone.

She spent a few minutes exploring the rooms. The first room seemed to be a parlor of sorts. There was a couch, a few chairs, and a writing desk by the window. She assumed the window was spelled somehow to look like it opened to the outside, since she was fairly certain they were well underground. Everything in the room was decorated in a deep burgundy color, which Hermione found very inviting. A fire was burning in the fireplace.

She walked toward the fireplace to examine the pictures on the mantle. They, too, were moving. She picked up a photograph of herself, a red-haired boy, and a black-haired boy. "This must be Harry and Ron," she mused. There were a number of pictures of the three of them and a few with a pretty red-haired girl that looked to be Ron's sister. There were also a few pictures of family members and a group of other friends.

The most interesting photograph of all must have been taken at a Christmas party. She was standing in the Grand Foyer twirling around in a beautiful red dress. A few feet away from her was Severus, who obviously had been coerced into taking a picture. His nose was wrinkled, and his arms were folded, but the eyes that were fixed upon her were significantly softened from what she had seen of them so far. She smiled and placed the picture back.

On the far side of the room stood three doors. The first was a washroom, complete with a bathtub of swimming pool proportions. The next room was a large walk-in closet filled with cloaks and a number of random objects Hermione did not recognize. The third room was her bedroom.

She walked inside. This room, too, had a window that appeared to look out on the grounds. The window on the other side of the room, however, seemed to open out to the middle of a lake. A few fish swam by, and, to Hermione's astonishment, what looked to be a mermaid. She snapped the curtains shut and turned back to survey the rest of the room. The bed was large and housed a fat, squashed-looking cat.

"Why hello there," Hermione purred as she lifted the cat into her lap. "You must be mine as well. I wonder what your name is."

The cat tilted its head as if to say, 'look at my tags, you silly human,' and allowed Hermione to search around his collar.

"Crookshanks. I have no idea where I came up with that, but it seems fitting." She lifted the cat out of her lap and fingered the soft bedclothes. "This is really quite lovely."

She looked around the room and saw a couple more doors. The first was another closet. This one contained about fifty different robes and about as many shoes. Hermione decided to leave those for later exploration. The second door made her gasp in surprise.

Books. Thousands of books lined the walls of a massive study. A few armchairs rested near another large window, this one giving the appearance that they were up several stories. A table stood in the middle of the room with a few modest-looking, comfortable chairs. But Hermione was more interested in the books. She immediately began running her fingers along different titles, grabbing ones that looked interesting. She finally settled on a pile of half a dozen and took them to back to the bedroom for perusal.

Her exhaustion, however, quickly trumped her quest for knowledge, and she slowly drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Art of Memory**  
Snidgetlass

Here's another chapter. Thanks for the reviews and the story alerts. I figured I might as well post the chapters as soon as I finish them to keep my momentum going. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all.

* * *

"Miss Granger."

No movement. Well, he certainly wasn't going to go into her bedroom to wake her. He would remain at the door. From his position in the parlor, he could faintly make out a lump at the edge of the bed. She was sleeping soundly.

"Miss Granger, wake up." Nothing. He could only make out soft breathing and the occasional purring of her cat. He hated that demented animal.

"Miss Granger!" he tried again, more loudly. She remained still. He was growing impatient. They were late for dinner and Minerva kept sending him her patronus with different matters he needed to attend to.

"Hermione!" he finally snapped. He charged into the bedchamber, flooding the room with magical motion-sensor lights and shook her by the shoulders. "Wake up. I told you I'd collect you in an hour. It's been an hour and ten minutes." She yawned and rolled over onto her back, sending books flying in every direction.

"What happened?" she asked groggily.

"We're late," he snarled, grabbing her by the forearm. He dragged her from the bed and out the door.

"But what about my hair?" Hermione inquired. She attempted to pat her frizzled curls down, with little luck. He eyed her warily, but stormed along the corridor with her in tow.

"As if you could manage any improvement on that," Severus replied derisively.

Hermione smiled sleepily. "I'll take that as a compliment. I like it too."

Severus huffed and pulled her along with a little more force than was necessary until they came to the Great Hall.

"Hermione!" two voices exclaimed at once. Severus groaned as the other two-thirds of the golden trio came bounding over in their direction. He watched with revulsion as Ron swept the girl up in a tender embrace, entirely forgetting her memory loss. Her eyes bulged and she struggled slightly beneath his grasp. That dunderhead.

"I've missed you so much, Hermione," Ron murmured into her massive hair. "We've been trying to find you all summer, haven't we Harry? We tried just about everywhere, but we thought you were meaning not to be found. McGonagall's just told us about your memory loss."

"In which case, Mr. Weasley, you had best discontinue groping the girl as she has never seen you before in her life."

"Oh." Ron's ears turned red and he backed a safe distance away. "Erm, sorry Hermione."

"It's okay," she said, blushing madly. "You must be Ron." Severus folded his arms and glared at both of the boys with contempt.

"Yep. And this is Harry."

"Hey Hermione." The black-haired boy held out his hand and she shook it gladly.

"It's so nice to meet both of you," she said warmly. "I can't wait to hear about our adventures. I'm told we were quite notorious in our school days."

"Well, we did get into a few tight spots, didn't we Professor?" Harry grinned.

"Indeed," he snapped. "Although I would hardly consider your exploits notorious. Nefarious maybe. Harboring fugitives, hexing teachers, stealing expensive potions supplies, and whatnot." He watched with pleasure as Hermione's eyes widened.

"Oh sod off, Snape," Ron retorted. "That was nearly ten years ago. And you bloody deserved it, you bat."

Severus gripped his wand more tightly. Hermione stepped between the two of them, facing Ron. "Perhaps we should get some dinner. I haven't eaten all day and it looks absolutely delicious. Hogwarts must have a great cook."

"The house elves cook everything, actually," Harry supplied tentatively.

"Elves? Oh how nice. Severus, you'll have to take me to meet them some time. I'd love to see them." Severus sneered at the use of his name, but didn't reply.

Ron laughed nervously, plainly avoiding the topic of wages or S.P.E.W. "Yep, they sure are hard workers those elves. You'll definitely have to take her, Severus," he mocked.

"Weasley, you..."

Minerva, sensing the tension building across the room, called over, "Dinner's ready." Severus stopped mid-sentence and unbeknownst to anyone else, mid-nonverbal bat bogey hex. He followed Hermione and the boys to the head table and took his customary seat next to Filius. Neville arrived and sat at his other side. Severus hated mealtimes when no students were present. There was no one to glare at and no one to take points off of, and with seats on both sides of the table, he had to make actual conversation. This meal, however, was looking to be a thousand times worse than usual.

Hermione sat between Ron and Harry. Severus sat across from them. Ron spent most of the meal staring at her, finding opportunities to touch her, and once, even smelling her hair. Severus could only wrinkle his nose at the disgusting display. Imagine, Hermione Granger dating a Weasley. It was unthinkable. She had much too much sense. He wasn't going to let a little memory loss cause her judgment to lapse. It had to be stopped.

He was so deep in thought about how to knock some sense into Hermione, that he was oblivious when the conversation turned to relationships.

"So, Neville, I hear you and Hannah are an item," said Harry.

Neville's face turned a brilliant color scarlet and he poked at some meat on his plate. "We've been seeing each other for a while," he said modestly. "Hermione was the one that did it, though. She finally convinced me to ask and helped me figure out what to say and all." He smiled across the table at her and she smiled back. "Hannah's living in Hogsmeade, you know. She's working at Gladrags during the day and helping out at the Three Broomsticks in the evenings. I think she really likes it."

"Well glad to hear it," Harry grinned. "I'm happy for you both."

"From what I 'ear, we oughta be congratulatin' Harry," Hagrid piped in from a few seats down.

"You've set a date, then?" Minerva questioned.

This time Harry was the one to turn red and he nodded. "December 14th," he answered. "Mrs. Weasley wanted to wait until after Christmas, but we figured we'd rather not wait."

"He's marrying Ron's sister Ginny," Neville explained across the table to Hermione. She she nodded in understanding.

"Well, congratulations," said Hermione. "I can't wait to meet her too. I think I saw some pictures of her in my room. I assume we're friends?"

"You two are pretty close," Ron replied. "Not as close as you are to me and Harry, but pretty close."

"Harry and me," Hermione corrected absentmindedly as she attempted to remove Ron's arm which had slyly snaked its way across her shoulder.

"Oh, right."

"Same old, Hermione," Harry grinned.

So far, thought Severus. She seemed more relaxed with the two boys around, almost as if she was unconsciously accustomed to them. Perhaps there were some lingering memories of the past. He would have to use legilimency on her again to be sure.

He glanced down the table at Minerva. She was staring right at him over the top of her square-rimmed spectacles. He averted his eyes from her gaze and began a conversation with Filius about what memory research he needed to be working on.

"We only have four weeks before term, so we don't have much time," he said.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Severus," the diminutive man replied reassuringly. "Even if we don't right her by then, we can always find another teacher to take her place for a while."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered.

"What was that, Severus?" Minerva asked.

"Nothing. I was just commenting on the consistency of the chocolate biscuits."

"And how are they?" Hermione questioned, reaching for the plate of them.

"Unpalatable," said Severus.

She helped herself to three.

"They taste perfectly fine," she announced suspiciously.

"He just dislikes chocolate," said Minerva. "He always has, even as a child."

Severus glared at her.

"I merely have an exacting taste for biscuits," he growled.

"Which would account for the perpetual look of disdain affixed to your face this entire meal," Hermione mused. "They must be quite repulsive."

Neville spit out a mouthful of pumpkin juice while the rest of the staff chuckled, well-acclimated to the inflammatory relationship between the two professors. Ron and Harry laughed loudly and patted Hermione on the back. Severus scowled and took a large swig from his wine glass. Yes, it certainly was the old Hermione. Perhaps his efforts would be best served remedying that problem first.

* * *

Filius observed the table silently from his seat most of the meal. He could tell Severus was piqued about Harry and Ron's presence, not to mention Ron's interactions with Hermione. Harry seemed happy to have his friend back, but Ron was showing more than mere good spirits.

He was evidently trying to use the memory loss to his advantage to win her back.

No one had been surprised when they broke it off after she graduated. Filius had never thought the two of them meshed well together. She was far too intelligent and far too logical for him. He was interested in quidditch, pranks, and shirking responsibilities. She was his exact opposite in interests and demeanor.

But then again, Filius was biased. He wanted her to end up with Snape.

Sure, he was unpleasant at times. And yes, he rebuked her often in public. He was sullen, he was sardonic, and he was tortured, but he was a good man - "Dumbledore's man through and through". Severus had lost a lot over the course of both wars, including, very nearly, his life, but thankfully, he had heeded his own countless 'stopper death' speeches and bezoar lectures and had survived, albeit barely.

She wasn't perfect either. She was nagging, irritable, and preferred reading above anything else. They were similar in that respect, although both seemed to find the trait irritating when possessed by the other.

Filius glanced up. Severus and Hermione were still fighting. The staff was accustomed to their frequent quarrels. In fact, most would probably admit to enjoying them. It was odd, though, that they had fallen back so easily into their usual banter with her memory in such as state.

"I don't see why you must be so critical of everything. I've only known you for about five hours and I don't think you've made a single complimentary comment about anything."

"I like when you don't speak. How's that?"

"You're infuriating. How on earth did I apprentice under you?"

"I've asked myself the same question," Ron tutted.

"I have no qualms about hexing you, Weasley."

"Thanks for the reminder."

"Coffee!" Minerva exclaimed in exasperation. Instantly, coffee cups appeared in front of everyone as the dessert trays vanished. Filius reached for the nearest coffee pot and poured himself a cup. He normally took sugar, but perhaps he would take it black tonight.

Severus slammed his hands down on the table and stood. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I have some research to do." He shot a glare at Hermione, then Minerva, and swept from the room.

"Bloody dramatic snivelling bat," Ron muttered.

Harry let out a long breath and turned to Hermione. "So what are your plans? Are you going to stay around here or what?"

Hermione shrugged. "I haven't really had time to think about it. A few hours ago I thought I was the unemployed amnesiac daughter of a couple dentists. I suppose I'll try to help fix whatever is wrong with me and figure out the rest from there."

"You really ought to come stay with us at Grimmauld Place," Ron urged. "This place isn't good for you. For one, you have to put up with that lot all day." He nodded towards the doorway Severus had just exited.

"I think everyone would agree this is the best place for me to stay," Hermione replied firmly. "Besides, the library here is at my disposal. I have about ten years of schooling to catch up on."

Harry grinned. "You're more than welcome to visit, at least. We've got everything cleaned up really well. It was, er, a tad bit grubby when I first moved in, but it's actually pretty nice now. And if you need any help here, we'll be glad to stop by. We work during the day and we travel a lot, but we'll try to be around as much as we can. Maybe we can trigger some of the memories locked in there."

"Severus doesn't seem to think there are any memories to unlock, I'm afraid," said Minerva. "She's a blank slate at this point."

"That's not always a bad thing," Ron grinned with a hand on her arm. Hermione shrugged him off.

When everyone had finished their coffee, Minerva stood.

"Well, Miss Granger, you'd best get to bed. I'll expect Severus will want to get you to work bright and early in the morning. Do you remember the way?"

Hermione nodded. She turned to her friends who had also stood. "Thank you for visiting me. I'm sorry I don't remember you, but it was very nice to meet you both."

"We're just glad you're okay," Harry said with a smile.

Ron ran his hand down her arm in what must have seemed to him a soothing manner. "I'll owl you every day."

"If I knew what that meant, I'm sure I'd be eternally grateful," Hermione replied sardonically.

"Oh, owl post. Sorry. It's like muggle mail but by owl instead."

"Got it. Well, goodbye." She waved awkwardly at the two boys and turned to the rest of the table. "I assume I'll be seeing the rest of you tomorrow. Have a pleasant evening." She obviously felt uncomfortable being the center of attention in front of a group of relative strangers and she quickly retreated from the hall.

Minerva shot a look at Ron. "Tread lightly, Mr. Weasley. You will do nothing to hamper her recovery, do I make myself clear?"

He swallowed. "Yes, professor."

Filius smiled to himself and finished off the last few drops of his coffee. Apparently he was not the only one with Miss Granger's best interests at heart.


End file.
